


Down Hearted Blues

by FandomTrashbag



Series: Pieces of Cake [8]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: 1930s aesthetic, Tags are not my strong suit, a dash of implied slut shaming, casually bisexual sarah williams, i like the idea of a fluid appearance, i swear Sarah isn't negatively promiscuous, jareth changes his hair a lot, jealous boyfriend trope, just mature conversation, rooftop bars, the ex is an asshole trope, there's always dancing with these two, there's dancing, there's no sex here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24721273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomTrashbag/pseuds/FandomTrashbag
Summary: Sarah decides it's time to turn out her secret relationship at a friend's engagement party. There's an asshole ex, a slightly overprotective boyfriend, and lots of love for the 20s and 30s here.
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Series: Pieces of Cake [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772494
Kudos: 59





	Down Hearted Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few things to mention:  
> \- This one is long and rambles a little bit. I'm sorry.  
> \- My Sarah has a list of past relationships and lovers; it's not a mile long or anything, but she never felt the need to be attached and so has flitted from person to person comfortably. This is not meant to be a negative, but the exact opposite. Nate is here to shake that comfort, as well as try and plant seeds of personal doubt in her capacity for committment; that's why he's an asshole.  
> \- My Jareth DGAF. Full stop.  
> \- I included a little illustration: Sarah's top is heavily inspired by a dress by Adrian, and Jareth definitely looks like the Thin White Duke watched too much "Peaky Blinders."  
> \- I kind of have fan-casts for our gratuitous characters here: Adhira is very Mindy Kaling, Trevor is somewhere between Karamo Brown and Ricky Whittle, with Nate having a very tyring-too-hard-to-be-classy-Rockabilly look. Annie, who I don't know we'll ever meet, is very much a Zazie Beetz in my head. Sarah's circle of people is diverse, dammit.

* * *

“Are you absolutely certain of this?” He lounged on her bed, one lean leg stretched out with his other tucked neatly under it. Idly, he spun three crystals in his left hand while his right moved back and forth with a fourth sphere flowing between the back and palm of his hand. Every few minutes, he would fluidly swap a crystal from his left hand. He looked simultaneously bored and concerned at the idea presented.

She shrugged. “It’s really as good a time as any. With everything, I feel like it’s only fair to you.” She applied her eyeliner with precision, sitting at that same old vanity she had at 15, the wood in need of a strip and varnish.

“Sarah, I assure you, there’s no need to change our arrangement on my account. I am content to stay your dirty little secret.” While his tone was light as ever, the glimpse of his expression in the mirror told a slightly different story. She could tell he had been increasingly bothered with having to dodge her social life.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, replacing the cap on her lipstick. “I told you I didn’t _want_ you to be a secret anymore. It isn’t fair to you.”

He met her eyes in the mirror, his hands never stopping. “A secret no longer then, but still quite dirty, I assume?”

She stood up from the small vanity and turned to walk towards her closet on the other side of the bed, pausing long enough in her journey to let her fingernails skim up his bare ankle and calf, then across the soft fabric of his black breeches where her hand moved to grip his thigh. As she leaned her face close to his, the motion of his hands ceased and he rested them in his lap.

“As if you could be anything but,” she teased suggestively, moving to plant a firm kiss to his jaw and giving his thigh a little squeeze; her lipstick left a faded imprint on his skin before the liquid dried down on her lips. She smirked proudly as she continued over to her closet to find a dress. Having few occasions to dress up, let alone with Jareth on her arm, she already had something in mind.

His crystals vanished and he stood, brushing past her to kiss her shoulder lightly as he left the room. “Then I’ll have to be on my best behavior if I am to meet your friends, won’t I?”

“Pfft,” was her only response as she dug through her closet.

* * *

He wasn’t stuck waiting long, draped over her sofa and using a scrying crystal to check in on his obnoxious subjects. He would wait until she was dressed to shift his own appearance, desiring to compliment her level of dress. While he thought a formal dinner or party to celebrate the mere _promise_ of marriage seemed a wasted expense, he was always willing to entertain mortal traditions. This seemed fairly important to Sarah and he had little else on his docket for the evening. Whatever he imagined this little gathering to be, it hardly prepared him for her completed appearance.

She emerged from her bedroom dressed and fumbling a delicate silver chain around her neck to finish her ensemble. Her shoes were simple black, low-heeled Oxfords that he vaguely remembered seeing her wear once or twice before. Her trousers were a deep black linen with wide legs that only tapered at her waist where they sat high. Small silver buttons held the flap front closed. The top she wore was a clean ivory satin, sleeveless with a faux-wrap front; the high neckline cowled slightly when she moved her shoulders. She wore her hair, now kept just long enough to brush her jugular notch, side parted and sleekly straight, letting it hang to partially cover her face.

“Would you mind?” she asked distractedly, her brows knitted together in mild frustration. She turned to gesture her difficulty securing the chain at the back of her neck.

He stood fluidly, slightly speechless at her elegant attire, gently took the chain from her fingers, and noticed the slight tremble. It was a long chain that fastened with a lobster claw to a large hoop at the nape of her neck. This kept the necklace choker-short in the front and allowed a long trail of silver down her back. The sun-tanned skin of her back was largely exposed, her top flaying open in a deep wide V that ended at the waistband of her pants. There were wings of satin framing either side of her bare skin with the delicate jewelry laying neatly along down the center. It was a very sensual 1930s aesthetic he was immediately fond of.

She felt his warm, bare knuckles drag the length of her uncovered spine and her shoulders flexed back in response, the motion tickling as he moved over a couple of the small moles there.

“You’re nervous.” His tone was amused as he pressed a kiss to the back of her exposed neck before smoothing her hair back into place.

“I just don’t really know what to expect from tonight. Vague allusions to seeing someone have barely kept the curious cats at bay. Not to mention my notorious lack of commitment means I’m not taken seriously, anyways.” She made at smoothing the front of her trousers as she turned around to keep her blush hidden. Seeing shiny black Oxfords on his own feet (instead of the bare toes she knew he’d been sporting moments ago) made her step back.

“Your choice in clothing indicates formality,” he said by way of explanation, shifting his weight to one foot and crossing them.

He now donned a dark charcoal three-piece suit in textured twill. His club-collar dress shirt had light blue striping and he decided against a tie. His pants were pleated and his sigil pendant now hung from a tailored waistcoat like a fob watch. Lately, he’d been wearing his hair in a much more modern style, straying farther from his familiar glam rock puff of wild strands. There was significantly more length at the top, but shorter along the back and sides of his head in the same straw blond. Now it held a part just slightly off-center with everything slicked back neatly, one lock refusing to stay back and hanging over his forehead.

She’d never seen him so stylishly dated or dressed. His wardrobe Above on their casual outings were always a tailored slack and a loosely-buttoned dress shirt. This sight had her breath catching a little and questioning whether she currently wanted him to keep wearing these kinds of clothes or strip them off him slowly. The latter, she reasoned, could at least be done later.

He proffered an arm expectantly, a smirk playing across his lips. “Let us be sure to make a good impression, yes?”

She smiled happily, grabbing her clutch bag and stepping to him, threading her arm through his. Before their forms faded in his trick of transportation, she noticed the ghost of red lip prints on the white of his shirt collar.

* * *

The event was at a lovely, open rooftop bar that offered beautiful views of New York City, strings of warm Edison lights setting the mood for the venue. The terrace was lined with couches filled with soft pillows and dotted with tables. There was a live jazz band set up in a corner with a small space cleared by event staff for dancing. The place had clearly been rented for just this event, despite the fact there were maybe 40 people in attendance. It made for the ability to move out of groups, get some air, and enjoy an evening together apart. Jareth noted the place had a distinct upper-class feel that didn’t quite fit what he knew of Sarah’s lifestyle.

As if sensing his thoughts, she leaned into him a little, squeezing the arm she had wrapped about his waist under the suit jacket. “Some of my friends have deeper pockets than I and they really like to show it off sometimes.”

He smiled into her hair as they walked toward a small crowd. “If this is to celebrate the agreement to marry, I can only imagine the wedding.” He could appreciate the mortal obsession with excess, considering the events he was known for hosting Underground.

Sarah used her laughter to help fix a genuine smile to her face as they approached a small cluster of women.

“Sarah!” the dark-skinned beauty at the center of the group said excitedly as she moved to embrace Sarah. Jareth noticed she wore a formal South Indian saree in greens and blues, a braid of thick dark hair draped over one shoulder. “I’m so happy you could make it. I thought for sure you wouldn’t come.”

Sarah pulled away from Jareth to return the hug warmly, so he crossed his ankles and let his hands rest in his pockets, playing the part of quiet boyfriend. He couldn’t keep the soft smile off of his face as the women took a moment to catch up and discuss the large ring catching the light and twinkling prettily.

“I wasn’t sure I would make it, either. Adhira, let me introduce Jareth,” she said a little hesitantly, dragging him a little closer with a tug on the lapel of his jacket.

Jareth let his smile broaden and oozed politeness. He took Adhira’s extended hand and just barely brushed his mouth against her knuckles. “A pleasure to meet the blushing bride. Sarah speaks so fondly of you.”

Adhira’s eyes widened and she looked from Sarah to Jareth, then back again in surprise, her eyebrows high. “Psh,” she waved him off casually once her hand was free. “I know that’s likely a lie. Polite, but a lie nonetheless. It’s been so long since we’ve even gotten to see each other.”

“I assure you, lying is something I simply cannot do.” His hands went back to his pockets and Sarah let out a small, choked cough.

“Do I hear London in your voice?” Adhira asked politely.

Sarah panicked for a second, realizing there was no story for them to tell. She should have known, however, that Jareth would be able to field just about anything.

“Yes. Brixton, in fact.” It wasn’t an outright lie; it was an accurate approximation for his accent. “My father was English. My mother, however, was from Venice.” He could feel Sarah’s curious gaze; they didn’t discuss his own past much and he’d rarely mentioned his parents.

“What a lovely coincidence,” Adhira nearly squealed, officially charmed. “My family’s from East Ham! We moved here when I was young though. American schools made sure I didn’t adopt much of an accent. What is it you do, mystery man?”

He put on an air of dismissiveness. “Very little, to hear some say it.” At this, he nudged Sarah with his arm playfully. “Old money, mostly; paternal family Lordship blah, blah, blah. I hold a seat in government, though. Plenty of travel.” Sarah was quickly realizing they were going to have a whole series of new conversation topics. Leaning into her, he pressed another kiss to her hair and murmured something about going to fetch them drinks.

Adhira immediately turned to Sarah. “Who the _hell_ is he, and what have you been hiding?” The slightly shorter woman looped her arm through Sarah’s and they moved through the crowd together to catch up before other guests could wisk the bride-to-be away.

“I’ve been hiding nothing, I swear.” She put her hands up defensively.

Adhira clearly wasn’t buying it. “Sarah, I know it’s been a while since we’ve gotten to see each other’s lovely faces, but it isn’t as if we don’t talk. You’re not a steady person with relationships. Even Annie was little more than a frequent visitor; Jared told me you cut it off as soon as she mentioned _not_ seeing other people. That was years ago. Commitment is a four-letter word to you.”

Sarah started fidgeting a little, trying to figure out what to say and how. “What makes you think Jareth is any different?” She tried her best to keep her voice neutral.

“For one, you markedly _don’t_ bring dates to social events. I’m also not blind. There’s something here, and I get the distinct feeling this isn’t new. You’re too… familiar.”

Sarah looked over at the bar, seeing Jareth leaning across the counter and charming the young bartender. She noticed the tiny surge of jealousy she may have once felt at that was almost gone. They _were_ familiar and, whether she’d said it out loud or not, they _were_ committed.

“It’s a little… complicated? We’ve known each other for a long time, been friends a long time.”

“Define long,” Adhira said.

“We’ve _really_ known each other for about twenty years, now.” She chanced a sideways glance at her friend. If it were possible, Adhira was staring at her harder. She continued, “After Annie was the first time we… fooled around.”

Adhira halted their stroll, hovering near the small group of men chatting casually at each other. “Wait, wait. I _know_ you’ve been with other people since Annie. Not this guy. You mean to tell me you’ve had this poor schmuck on a line the whole time?”

When she put it that way, it made her seem like an asshole.

“We had… rules. Look, you’re not alone in the dark. Jared knew I was seeing _someone_ but not even he and Jolie have had this pleasure. No one.” _I was embarrassed,_ she thought, _ashamed. Falling for a childhood delusion was never part of my plan._ “I’ve needed to be sure about things and I think I am. It’s taken me years, but I’m getting there. I’m… comfortable _around_ him. Now I want to be comfortable _with_ him.” Saying it out loud actually felt kind of nice.

“Of all the opportunities you’ve had to _use_ a Plus One, I feel honored it’s my engagement party that you actually chose to.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Please. He just _loves_ parties. Schmoozing is second nature to him. Just look,” she gestured to the bar. “He’s found Jared on his own.”

“Oh lovely. Your Jareth and my Trevor will get along just fine then.” Adhira laughed, knowing her fiance to be just as skilled when it came to charming strangers. “I feel compelled to warn you, though…”

Sarah’s face turned apprehensive. “What?”

“More like a ‘who,’ really. Nathan is here, somewhere. If I had _known_ about this little friend of yours, I might have told Trevor to leave him off the list.” Adhira was already recoiled, preparing for a kind of backlash.

Really, all Sarah could do was sigh. “Nate…” she huffed. Nothing like confronting that one ex who was never really a relationship to begin with. They had been together several times, off and on, but there had been rules. She had never wanted anything beyond physical from him. The idea of finally getting to use Jareth as a human shield against something _other_ than toothpick-flinging goblins was some kind of comfort. “You know what, it’s fine. We’ll be fine. It’ll be just _fine_. Now, take me to see Trevor.”

They were deep in boring conversation when a glass of red wine floated under her nose and Sarah took it gratefully, turning to smile up at him. “Apologies for the wait, precious. I seem to have found your forest companions all on my own. Decent fellows, really.”

Sarah looked over her shoulder at the bar, meeting Jared’s gaze and seeing Jolie wave a greeting around his back. Jared was waving an enthusiastic thumbs up at her, indicating his staunch approval in her choice of date. She laughed a little, thinking of just how close they’d been to meeting him a couple years prior on one of their late-Spring camping trips. And each Spring trip since, really, if she was being honest. Jareth had shown up to talk her to sleep those nights in the clearing by the Wishing Tree four years running. She took a deep drink from the glass gifted to her and leaned back comfortably against Jareth’s form, just noticing he smelled vaguely of cardamom.

“Oh, dearest Jareth,” Adhira said excitedly once she noticed his return. “This is my lovely Trevor.” She smacked the arm of the man just to her left who had been focusing his attention elsewhere.

He was a tall, broad, man with striking honey eyes and a shaved bald head. His suit was a modern, slim fit in a lovely jewel-toned green. He looked down to focus on Adhira, then moved his gaze to Jareth. A huge smile cracked his face in two as he stuck out a hand to shake. “So, _you’re_ the one who has managed to hold our Sarah’s attention,” he teased warmly.

Jareth found he rather enjoyed the idea of being noteworthy even in the eyes of Sarah’s friends.

“That would appear to be the case.” He made a point to look down and over at Sarah as he shook Trevor’s hand. “She certainly holds mine. It really is lovely to meet everyone.” His very pointed stare moved back to Trevor. “Congratulations are in order, to you and Adhira, here. Many blessings for happy nuptials.”

Where Sarah had been worried Jareth’s _otherness_ would prove to be an issue, he simply flourished. She watched him as he socialized with her friends, picked up on human banter, and even snuck in a few jibes against his goblin denizens. The latter always resulted in genuine laughter, as if he were just telling funny jokes. He seemed to be, gods forbid, _enjoying_ himself here. Spying his empty glass, Sarah took her opportunity to breathe and slipped it from his fingers. When he looked askance at her, she merely patted his shoulder and insisted it was her turn to fetch drinks.

She leaned forward against the bar, enjoying the early Fall breeze against her skin, while she waited at the busy bar for fresh glasses. She felt a hand in the middle of her back and smiled, turning to say something snarky. Her smile abruptly faltered, as did her witty comment when she was faced with a brunette pompadour and green eyes. “Oh! Nate. Uhm, hi.” She awkwardly tilted her body away from him to displace the unwelcome hand. He took her cue, but still sat on the seat next to her, their knees touching under the bar.

“Hey. Trevor said he wasn’t sure you were coming. You look stunning.” His smile was bright, easy. His body language said he was sure of himself, more confident than the last few times they’d met.

“Yeah, thanks.” The enthusiasm was missing from her voice and he had the grace to let disappointment flicker over his emotions. She gestured to him, “You… You look great, too.” To be fair, he certainly did.

It wasn’t that there had been a _lack_ of attraction between them. Even now, in a cotton vest and slim pants, the sleeves of his shirt rolled casually to his elbows to show off his tattoos, she remembered _why_ she had found him attractive. Not for the first time, though, she wondered if it had been because he was such a physical opposite to Jareth. Nate had been a distraction between her small affairs and failed relationships, even after things had started to get more complex with a certain monarch; he had been a fairly great distraction, actually, if not a bit desperate in his bid to keep her.

“Look,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t want this to be awkward, anymore. I realize I was pushing in the past; we were looking for different things. I was wrong, and I know that now.”

She blinked rapidly in slight disbelief. This was not at all expected. After a moment, she nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” Newly-filled glasses appeared on the bartop near her arm and she quickly smiled thanks at the bartender, picking one up to take a drink.

He scooted a little closer, gently trapping one of her knees between both of his, and her gaze snapped down. She looked back up at him, taking a breath to say something, when he turned up the wattage on his boyish smile. His face was overly friendly and he dropped the level of his voice so only she could hear it over the hum of the wordless music from the band.

“I’d like to get another chance, really.” One hand slid over hers on the bar. “I feel like I know you better. I know what makes you tick.” His other hand was now moving dangerously up the inside of her thigh in very clear suggestion.

“Nate, you don’t want to do that,” she said quietly, trying to warn him of something other than her prior penchant for fun flings. She was flushed with a fight or flight response building, and she knew he would read it incorrectly.

He laughed, but there was little humor to it even when keeping his demeanor warm and inviting. “It’s okay this time, Sarah. I know what you _like_ .” His hand on her thigh squeezed a little, itching to touch her more. “You play fast and loose with people, no harm in that. I’m just ready to have a little _fun_.”

Before she could say anything, she smelled something warm and smoky, though the words that came from behind her were dripping with ice. “You have chosen a dangerous path, and should you continue that journey, the only fun that to be had will be the removal of your hand from your person.”

Nate’s focus shifted from her to just above her head and she watched his larynx bob as he swallowed hard. He looked between the two of them a little nervously, but quickly gathered himself for a quiet confrontation, squaring his shoulders just so. “I’m not sure who you are or what you think you know, friend,” Nate paused to lick his lips, “but it’s the polite thing to do to mind your own business. We’re having a private conversation.”

Sarah couldn’t be sure just what shifted on Jareth’s face, but she felt the tension in his body and watched Nate go pale in front of her.

“I am quite confident she can take care of herself. However, where your hands go on _my_ Sarah is very much my business.” The words were a dangerous growl and she felt Nate falter, his hands beginning to move away from her.

Nate looked back at Sarah, silently asking for a confirmation.

Her look was just this side of apologetic as she shrugged and pulled her hand out from under his on the bar to take up her glass of wine. “I did try to tell you it wasn’t a good idea.” She took a long drink as he pulled back from her and stood from the bar.

Nate’s face cracked in a smile and he chuckled, holding his hands up in front of him in surrender. “A misunderstanding. Really. But Sarah,” he paused, consciously ignoring Jareth for a moment, “when you get tired of him, the way you do everyone else, don’t count on me to distract you anymore.”

Just like that, Sarah emptied her glass as she watched Nate’s broad back retreat to mingle with their shared circle of friends and acquaintances.

Jareth lifted Sarah’s arm off the bar from her wrist and held it lightly. “Come. Dance with me.” He coaxed her from the bar with outstretched arms and a wiggle of his hips. He walked backwards to the little dance floor, tugging her along with him. He spun her once before drawing her to him, his hand settling at the small of her back.

They fell into an easy, slightly jaunty box-step, blending into the handful of other dancing pairs. Sarah settled for following his lead and hiding her face against his chest to sulk in… whatever it was she was currently feeling. Nate had soured her mood thoroughly, just when she thought nothing would ruin a relatively-normal night out. For a few moments, she was just content to be held, their clasped hands resting near her face over his heart and his thumb stroking along her spine.

She sang a little once she realized she knew the tune playing. “ _Trouble, trouble, I’ve had it all my days. Trouble, trouble, I’ve had it all my days. It seems that trouble is going to follow me to my grave_.”

“Talk to me, Sarah,” he demanded quietly. She could feel every word rumble through him when he spoke.

She only heaved a sigh in response, not really knowing what to say. His thumb on her back went from stroking to tapping impatiently.

“That just… stung a little more than I expected it to. That’s all. I don’t want to doubt myself, doubt _this_. I’ve realized my romantically nomadic habits were a reaction to pushing you away when I was young. I was scared of it, of a burgeoning sexuality that I didn’t understand. Commitment to something I didn’t embrace wholly felt like defeat, so I never did.” He tensed against her, just a little, the way he always did when they talked about her run. She noticed, however, that his thumb had gone back to soothing strokes. “You, of all people,” she poked at the space between his shoulders that her hand occupied under his coat, “helped me get comfortable after the fact without ever placing yourself there, again.”

She felt his silent laughter. “Oh, my dear. I promise I placed myself there many times, in my mind. Too many years passed between us for that to be avoided.” His smile widened as he felt her glare up at him.

“There were plenty of times I wished you had. Just never out loud.” He looked down to find her blushing just so. For a second, he imagined her in her college dorm, biting a pillow to keep quiet at the thought of his touch. His smile turned absolutely smug. She moved to place a kiss against his neck, just above the collar of his shirt.

“Why are you here, with me, like this?” Her voice was small, a little uncertain. So much usually went by unsaid.

His grip on her changed and he opened up to spin her in their dance, settling her back against his body with grace. She now faced outward and tried to make her expression neutral for any onlookers without having him to hide against. They continued to dance as he settled his chin on her shoulder and the tune from the band changed.

“I once offered you your dreams, Sarah, and that hasn’t changed. Then, you desired a villain to defeat; you needed a sense of purpose and accomplishment, so I gave it to you.” He kissed her shoulder and recited against her skin, “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. Your dreams have changed, your needs, desires, your expectations. I have continued to change with them, year after year.”

She raised a hand to wrap around his neck, holding him close, as she thought about it. When she’d needed a guide through early adulthood, he was there. When she craved support, he’d shown up. When all she had wanted was a romp with a childhood crush, he was always eager. Her demands for privacy, for non-exclusivity had met no resistance. Now, when she’d finally settled something deeper and more permanent, he’d settled into that role with ease. Just like as a teenager, he had been more attuned to what she needed than she was and simply made sure she was never wanting.

He hummed into her ear from his spot on her shoulder, “ _Love, oh love, oh careless love. In your clutches of desire, you’ve made me break many a true vow, then you set my very soul on fire._ ”

“Aren’t you tired of that? Of shaping yourself to _my_ will? I thought my expectations were exhausting.” she mused.

He pulled her as close to him as he possibly could, the buttons of his vest pushing the chain of her necklace into her flesh. “Your _expectations_ of me are much more pleasantly exhausting these days, precious.” His hand splayed and pressed against her abdomen as he pushed his hips forward into hers.

She twisted her head just enough to kiss him soundly, tugging on the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Take me home?” she asked against his mouth.

He needed no further instruction as they walked, hand in hand, into the deep shadows of a quiet corner to disappear.

**Author's Note:**

> End Notes get to be longer because I feel like I don't do enough to establish shit in this little universe.
> 
> Songs from the band are "Down Hearted Blues" and "Careless Love" by Bessie Smith; I love her recordings.
> 
> I hmm-ed and haaaaa-ed over the rating, here. While there's nothing explicit, I do think some of the discussion is adult-y relationship-y stuff. (EDIT: this used to be set at M, but it's pretty unnecessary, so I changed it down to T)
> 
> Brixton is where Bowie is from, so I thought it fitting. East Ham is said to have a fairly prominent South Indian population (found with some quick google-fu), so I hope it's accurate enough. And, yes, I'm working "Coronation" canon into this. I see the official comics as EU canon and will treat them as such. Maybe we'll even meet Jareth's mom and robot-dad at some point. I don't remember if they ever mention where dad is from specifically, but I liked the idea of mom being a Venetian Italian. I may even place a Titian or two in the castle at some point.
> 
> Jareth changes his appearance. This is completely based on Henson canon: Jareth is a representation of Sarah's wants and needs. "Labyrinth" was filmed and set in the 80s, and it shows. Neither of these characters are still in the 80s (most of my writings will be firmly in the 2000s without ever being specific; use mentions of Sarah's age as rough markers). As her wants and needs change, along with the style of the times Above, so would Jareth's appearance. He exists, but his physical appearance exists /for her/. This hairstyle, for him, is largely what I picture in most of their stories (the 90s were a questionable time where he kind of went grungy because Sarah did; we don't talk about his "Kurt Cobain" looks around here). Also, please don't hate me for constantly working in film quotes. Some of them are just too good to pass up.
> 
> I didn't want "slut shaming" to be overt, but I wanted to shake Sarah's new-found confidence a little bit. She's finally come to terms with being openly committed and this is her proving to everyone that she can be (which her years-long friends know) and that her restless nature isn't permanent. Granted, them not knowing what Jareth is also hides the fact that he can very much satisfy her restlessness, even if he's the only person she's sleeping with (now). I do know, however, that Nate will return in spirit to spur some bitter sexy stuff in another installment (yes, I just jump all over the place in this timeline).


End file.
